A Kid Named Fear
by ILoveLukeC
Summary: The only thing to fear is fear, itself ... but what are you supposed to fear when you ARE fear? AN: Just a thought that bugged me until I wrote it down and got attached to the character. The rest of the crew will appear later on.
1. Meet Fear

**A Kid Named Fear.**

I've been invisible all my life.

Not invisible in the sense that nobody cares enough to see me.

Just invisible in the fact that they don't _want _to see me.

They hate me. The hatred isn't even a real emotion; just insatiable wrath for something they can't even see, only feel.

I guess that's why they hate me so much.

The fact that I'm a feeling, the panic that grips your heart and struggles to pull it up out of your throat instead of just ripping out of your chest. The nauesa that washes over you when you realise nothing's going to be the same. The first wave of despair as you let out a silent gasping sob and completely lose it.

The thing they don't realise, though, is this: I've felt fear first-hand. It's been there all my life, just like my being invisible. Fear doesn't simply go away after it's attached itself to you. No, it latches onto your happiness and drains it, like a leech to skin and blood, but it doesn't just leave a bloodied circular bite. It leaves emotional and mental scars, as well as the physical ones.

My name is Fear.

Actually, Fear's just the meaning, but it _is _what I am.

You don't have to call me Fear. Personally, I think it's a drag.

You can call me Davis. That's what I wish people would call me, you know, if they could actually acknowledge my existence without hating it.

I really don't remember my past, except that name: Davis.

I'm pretty positive that was my name. At least, I hope it is, since I've been using it for a while. If you count three-thosand desolate years as a while, that is.

I'm not three-thosands years-old, mind you. I'm older.

Seventeen years older, to be precise.

I've been invisible that long.

Alone for three-thosand seventeen years...

Three-thosand seventeen years is a lot of time to think.

Thinking is pretty dangerous, espically when you have loads of time for it.

The one thing on my mind, though, is how the hell did I end up here?

This place... It's terrible as it is. They're killing one another, poisoning their brothers, pillaging and burning everything they've ever lived for. Then, they have the nerve to blame _me._

It's all Fear's fault, they said as they lit a torch to skin. Blame him, they all shouted as a bayounet slid through cotton to skin through a pulsing heart back to skin to cotton to air. We're not doing anything wrong, they rallied as they slaughtered men with families and lives to live. We're the good guys, they persuaded as an ax clomped off a man's head.

Who's the they, you ask?

You. It's all of you.

I'm sorry if I seem to be pointing fingers, but this has been my life for _three-thosand and seventeen years._

I have a lot of pent-up emotion, and the most common one just so happens to be myself.

I get scared a lot. Not of normal things, either. I've got no phobias of darkness or weird animals or freaky addictions.

I've just got a phobia of... Fear.

Fear, itself. Or myself.

Whatever, you get the general idea.

I'm just scared of what I do, what I am, _who I am._

"BUT, WHO AM I?!" I screamed in the middle of a crowded shopping mall.

No one turned. No one gasped. No one asked if I was mentally ill.

I clenched my fists and I whirled around, sending a wild punch through the stomach of a buissness man who did the impossible: he stopped walking.

He actually stopped.

I stared at him, shock-still, my forearm through the flat stomach of the man in front of me. He glanced down at my face, and with a slight brush of the hand, dusted off the front of his buisness jacket as if I had punched some wrinkles into it, which was impossible, as all the air had been ironed out of it.

He continued walking, right through me, as if I wasn't even there.

Freezing hopelessness washed over me. My arms fell to my sides, my hands clenched into fists, as I bit back the sob that was threatening up my throat. Tears pricked my eyes. I slumped onto the floor, curled myself into a ball and allowed freezing feet to step through me.

"Davis. You're Davis," I whispered.

_No. You're Fear, _a thought hissed into my mind. _That's all you'll ever be._

**Well, hi, guys. After that incredibly dark introduction, I'd like to ask how the hell I came up with something like this because honestly, this was really depressing to write but I've already grown attached to Davis. All 753 words of him. **

**This is supposed to be for ROTG and the rest of the characters should be introduced later if I do make this more of a story type of thing, if you guys want more. We'll learn more about Davis and what, and who, he is. This introduction was beyond short, but I think it's good enough.**

**Hope you all enjoyed it and leave a review to tell me what you think!**


	2. Phobia And Hysteria

I left the mall after-hours, when everyone had left and there was nothing around me besides eerie silence as I finally coaxed myself to get off the dirty floor and to at least get out of the food court.

I finally found myself in a clothes department after a few more hours of aimless wandering. I walked up to a few automatic doors and watched as they flung open. I glanced around and caught sight of the blinking red light on a security camera. I allowed myself a small conceited smirk before I slid through the doors, thinking about the reactions that were bound to come around when they checked the survillence tapes.

I stepped out into the desolate parking lot. A harsh wind slapped me in the face as bullets of icy rain pierced through the thick hoodie I was wearing. A curtain of ebony swept in front of my eyes as my shoes scraped against wet asphalt.

There was a bitter laugh to my right. "Oh, look, Phop. Fresh meat."

There was some disapproving murmuring to my left. "C'mon, Hyster, give the kid a break.."

A hand roughly yanked the hood of my jacket, pulling me off balance as I stumbled backward. I braced myself for the torment that had become quite the routine for the past thousand years.

"Calm your tits, Phobia," Hysteria laughed. "Baby Davey loves it."

"_Davis_," I corrected as I pried his claws from my hood.

Hysteria waved his hand in a shut-up-before-I-kick-your-ass sort of motion. "I still think it's funny that you gave yourself a name," He drawled, cracking his face into a smile. "_Hysterical, _even."

Phobia crossed his arms over his leather jacket. "That was terrible."

Hysteria shot him a glare, turning his hawklike gaze to me. "What about you? Got any comments, Davey?" He took a menacing step forward, his hands clenched into fists.

"How come you never start fights with Phobia?" I whined, backing up.

"Because _Phobia _here-," Hysteria began.

Phobia stepped forward, interjecting into the conversation. "You two need to stop this," He ordered calmly, one palm against each of our chests.

I always found that strange-how the man who caused choking panic could be so calm.

Hystertia rolled his eyes. "Yeah, totally, 'might just do that."

Silver light pulsed out of the hand Phobia had thrust into Hysteria's chest. Hysteria's bronze eyes sparked and he shoved Phobia's hand away. "Don't use your shit on me," He snarled before marching off down the street. "Tell that kid he can't go to the house," He snapped over his shoulder, as if it were an afterthought, although I knew better. That was the entire reason he'd stopped me in first place.

Phobia sighed, his silver eyes watching Hysteria's form dissappear. Phobia turned his head to me, causing his spiked raven hair to glow with the floresuent bulbs of the street lamps. "I'm sorry, Davis, but you're gonna have to find another place to room for a while. We're having a client come in."

A client. That made us sound normal. Almost.

"Oh, who is it this time? Dracula? Frankenstein, perhaps?" I asked in annoyance.

Phobia smiled a bit. "No, someone a bit higher up. That's why it's such a big deal. You understand, don't you?"

I gave a fake smile. "Oh, I totally understand."

Phobia smiled and placed a hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Great. Take care of yourself now." Phobia turned away and began to walk off before vaporizing on the spot into silver light rays.

I stood there, soaked to the bone, in the middle of a parking lot. Alone. Yet again.

I sighed and turned on my heel. I needed to find a place to room for a few weeks.

...

It wasn't a room.

It was a cardboard box.

Yet, I still happened to acquire a roommate.

I curled up into the box, which I'd set on its side to try and shield us from the rain. I pulled down the box flaps to block out light and rain and picked up the little shivering furball and proceeded to wrap him in the ratty blanket that had been tossed into the box and left behind.

In a way, the little black kitten was a bit like me. Lost, alone and scared.

His black body pressed against my hands as he gave occasional yowls that were painful to the ears. I caught myself wincing every time he let one out.

I knew my presense wasn't making anything easier for the kitten, but with him in my hands, I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time. His body was warm, for one. I hadn't felt warmth in forever. Two, I could actually hold him and when he would blink his large yellow eyes, he didn't look through me; he seemed to looking directly at me.

I sighed as the kitten snuggled into my chest, purring slowly. Water was beginning to seep through the top of the box and drip down my neck and soak my hair. I felt a finger of water slide down the side of my nose and thought for a second, that tonight seemed like the best night to close my eyes and sleep.

Fear never rests, though. Ever. Even if I've been waiting thousands of years to have a decent sleep, I still can't. Not unless I want to face the nightmares.

It's ironic, the fact that I, as Fear, still have nightmares. That's why I refuse to let myself sleep, but the nightmares don't just haunt me in dreams; they wreck havoc on this place, this land, every single day and if I even try to stop it, I only make it worse.

The rain pummeled, the thunder roared, the lightning flashed and I sat in a cardboard box, holding a black kitten against my chest. I breathed in the rainy air and leaned my head against the box and did something I'll forever regret: I closed my eyes.

_Sweet dreams, _a voice chuckled near my ear, but I was already being hurdelled into darkness, thunder a deathly soundtrack in my mind.

**Hey, guys! So, yes, this is gonna be a story. Phobia and Hysteria are insanely fun to write about. I might have figured out my tumblr and joeyblondeknight is an absoluete sweetheart, I'm serious, I love that guy to bits (although he pretty much has no clue who the heck I am). So, yes. You pronounce Phob like Phobe, FYI, and Hyster like Hysteria without the -ia. That made sense, I guess.**

**I also get my braces off tomorrow, so I'm overall pretty excited.**

**Thank you to a guest and Storylover4ever for reviewing!**

**Thank you, also, to Niallersbabe3, Storylover4ever, The Darkness Hides Me and Mage of Breath for favouriting/following!**

**See you guys in the next update.**


	3. Nightmares

My nightmares aren't like usual nightmares. I don't see anything like myself falling down an endless cavern or getting chased by a physcopath down an empty street. No, I see much worse.

I see my past.

Not the sugar-coated bits, either, none of the good memories of childhood. Oh no. I see myself only in disaster.

I see myself during the Civil War, watching in golden-eyed horror as men from both sides kill one another with no regret, as rusty waves of blood lap against the battlefield. Hysteria rallies troops with a shrieking call, his gun spitting bullets, and Phobia stands over bodies, staring glumly down at their blank faces and dead eyes.

The scene always changes to something worse. What's worse than a war against your brothers? I'll tell you.

I'm thrown back in time, even farther back. It's the Trojan War. I can tell by the men climbing from the bottom of the Trojan Horse. I can see Hysteria, his eyes gleaming with the craziness of it all, and he's clutching a sword in his fist and grinning ear from ear, whispering encouragement into the other mens' minds. Phobia's standing off to the side, across from me, and when the first torch ignites to a small home, he nods his head in my direction and he blows air against his palm. Silver light flys off his hand and swirls around the village, intestifying panic. Gold light leaps from my fingertips without my consentment; it's already causing havoc. I see a man run toward a family, slamming a sword into the father's neck and I let out a horrified scream, just like the young child staring in shock as his father's body hits the ground and his head rolls in a seperate direction.

My throat's still raw as I fall to my knees, my vision swirling as I'm thrown into an old-style court room, maybe in the 1600's. I can see a woman, her head high, as a entire court room screams curses and accusions, girls grabbing their throats in an attempt to act as if possessed. I hear those dreadful words, "You have been sentenced to death by hanging," and I only tear my eyes away when I hear Hysteria's laughter, see his insane bronze eyes, as he throws his head back. Phobia sits beside him, ignoring him completely, as he stares solemnly ahead. I hear a voice, the woman's, and I turn my head to see her looking directly at me. "Let me guess. You're Fear?"

I stare at her. "What?"

She eyes me. "I would've thought you'd be taller."

I furrow my eyebrows, as her voice deepens and grows a British accent. "You know, I never was exactly fond of this time," She looks around. "I loved the darkness of it all, just not the situation. Dark magic," She scoffed, her tone growing deeper with each word, "Absoluetly ridiculous. These idiots haven't _seen _anything."

Her once brown eyes darkened, lost color completely until they were silver. Gold flashed along her iris. Her face was contorting, morphing into something else. "Oh, but _you've _seen everything," The voice was on its lowest setting, the face changing. The woman nose puffed out along with the forehead; the skin grew sickly; the black dress grew a dipping v-neck and thick sleeves. The room darkened dramatically and all I could see were the glowing eyes and the haunting Chesire-cat grin. "What do you say, Fear?"

I stared at the floating grin, feeling the eyes burn into me like white-hot embers. I shifted uncomfortably. "Um, say to what?"

There was an agitated sigh. "Honestly, how thick are you? I want _you _to help _me._ We can do _anything _as long as we work together."

I stared at the two defiant eyes, the unfliching crooked smile. "I can help you get what you want."

"And, what's that?" I asked.

"_Belief. _To be seen. I know how you feel. To be looked right through, not acknowledged, blamed for everything," His voice held bitterness and hatred. "You and I could be a force to be reckoned with, Davis. As long as you agree."

I felt a surge of uneasiness. "You must be looking for someone else."

"No," The voice said immeaditly. "I'm looking for _you. _I always have. If I'd known about you sooner," There was a short, bitter laugh that turned into throaty cackling, "Those Guardians wouldn't have stood a chance..."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What?"

"So," The voice continued, ignoring me, "What do you say?"

"I say," I began, "you can get the fuck out of my nightmares."

The Chesire smile faded into a frown. The eyes flashed in anger before, they too, faded away.

The scene flickered. I stood on a hill, overlooking the hanging of an innocent woman. Her body swayed in the breeze, her hands and feet bound and a bag over her head. The crowd of onlookers had left. I stepped up to the gallow platform, ripped the bag away and stared at the woman's face. Her head was still held high, her glassy brown eyes defiant.

There was not an ounce of fear in her eyes.

Suddenly, the brown drained like a bath plug had been pulled. I jumped back in shock, underneath yet another awaiting noose. It swung down, closing on my throat. My hands struggled against the tightening rope as a golden hoop swooped along her silver iris.

_Now, Davis, _The same voice chuckled in my ear, _how do I stay the fuck out of your nightmares, when your life just so happens to be one?_

I woke up, choking for air, back in my cardboard box, back in the alley. I sat up, glancing around the box. The cat was gone, and scratched by young claws were the words _You'll regret this _in the other side of the cardboard I was staring at.

I shoved through the box flaps, tripping over myself as I stood and tried to take off running before I slammed straight into a firm chest. I placed my hands against a familar leather jacket and slowly glanced up. Phobia smiled slightly and I could hear Hysteria say, "Baby Davey's finally awake!"

"Hey, Davis," Phobia said, ruffling my hair.

I glanced around the alley. The air was frigid and my breath fogged up as I asked, "How long was I asleep?"

Phobia's smile grew. "About three months."

**And, now we know why Davis doesn't sleep. 1) His nightmares and 2) he sleeps for a **_**long **_**time.**

**Yeah, hope you guys liked this. Davis has grabbed Pitch's interest, eh? And, now it's winter. Hmm.**

**So, got my braces off today and it's the weirdest feeling ever. I ate popcorn for the first time in two years. Thank you, Tooth 3**

**Yes, and it was extremely windy so I bet Jack came to see my teeth, as I told my mother and younger sister a bajillion times.**

**Thank you to chibissima for leaving a review, this chapter was a bit vague but I hope it will get clearler later in the story on who Davis is.**

**Hope you guys liked the chapter, R&R and have a great day!**


	4. Sophie, Jamie and Jack

"I've been sleeping three months?" I asked, stretching my limbs.

"Yeah. We thought we were gonna have to pull a Sleeping Beauty on you," Hysteria let out an impish laugh, "except, you know, nobody _truly _loves you."

The adreniline I'd lost suddenly coursed through my veins as my jaw tightened. Hysteria always said stupid stuff like that. "_Anyway. _How was your client-thing?" I asked through gritted teeth.

Phobia sighed. "It went better than I thought it would. We've been working from the first night, nonstop."

"Do I want to know what you're doing?" I asked, crossing my arms to try and fend off the cold air.

"No, I don't think you'd like to," Phobia continued, his head held high against the wind.

"Oh, but I think you'd love to know," Hysteria laughed near my ear. "Would you, Davey? Would you like to know? Is the curiousity positively _killing _you on the inside?"

I rolled my eyes. "Don't."

"We're-"

"Hyster," Phobia warned, but Hysertia was a roll.

"-sending out attacks. It's amazing how fast they travel!" Hysteria let out a shrieking laugh.

"Wait. You're ... you're doing it again?" I asked, whirling on Phobia and stabbing my pointer finger into the band shirt he was wearing beneath his leather jacket. "You promised-"

Phobia held his hands up in defense. "Davis, please, let me explain!"

"No!" I shouted. "You can't just give innocent people panic attacks, Phobia! It's wrong and cruel and I don't care what your explanation is!"

Hysteria chuckled. "Somebody's cranky."

I whirled on him next, shoving the ugly smirk from his face. "And, you! Turning people crazy! Just for the fun of it!"

His eyes flashed and he grabbed my wrists in his fists. "I don't do it for the fun of it, Davey. I do it because I can. What can _you_ do? You get the best ability out of all of us and you aren't even grateful for it."

"I don't want to make people's lives miserable! Mine was miserable enough, and both of you know that!" I shouted, my chest heaving.

Why was I even breathing so hard? I was dead.

Hysteria's gaze softened but his fists only tightened along my wrists. "I don't understand why you got the worst bit out of all of us. I make people go completely mental; I wouldn't say I enjoy doing it, but after three hundred and a half millenia of it, I've gotten used to letting those damned people embrace their craziness. All of them have it."

"Who says they _wanted _to embrace it?" I asked him, my glare cold enough to reharden his own.

He shoved me away and I stumbled into Phobia. Phobia caught me, but I pushed away from him.

"Davis," Phobia began, his silver eyes pleading with me to listen to him.

I shook my head. "I'll see you guys later."

"You do this all the time, Davey!" Hysteria called after me as I dissappeared in a patch of shadow. "You can't hide in the dark from all of your problems!"

"Just watch me!" I snapped back.

...

I envisisioned my old house, my old room, and suddenly I was standing in a room that looked completely unlike my own. The walls were white with pink butterfly decorations and there was a toddler bed in the center of the room. A little girl with choppy yellow hair lay slumped on her bed, a pair of pink butterfly wings sticking from her back. I pulled her covers over her and slumped down onto the floor beside the bed, my hands on my head, tugging furiously at my shadowy hair. I started screaming, kicking my legs, jerking my arms, crying out until eventually, my voice gave and I was left to silently scream.

A golden swirl of light caught my attention. I glanced at it, watching it twirl in the air and collect in a golden cloud over the little girl's head. I watched it, my fingers still gripping my hair. A content smile spread across the girl's little face as a golden bunny popped its head out of the shimmery cloud, its long ears twitching. I began to loosen my grip on my hair, letting my fingers slip away as I continued to watch the rabbit in her dream come to life. I sat, transfixed, as the bunny hopped out of the cloud and began to hop around the room. It grew in size, its ginormous feet causing giant clouds of sparkly dust to flood the room. My mouth gaped open as a little golden girl with untidy hair and butterfly wings-_real butterfly wings, _I might add, which flapped her into the air-suddenly came into the picture. The bunny held out his arms and the girl jumped into them.

In my stupidity, I hadn't noticed the room darkening. I was so transfixed that I hadn't seen the shadowy finger brush a grain of golden sand. The darkness began to infect the rest of it. I stood up, visions of the Bubonic Plauge playing in my mind's eye, as swirl after swirl of golden sand turned black.

The rabbit was infected first. He'd jumped in front of the girl, two suspious-looking boomerangs appearing in his front paws. He threw them both, but instead of the golden sand returning the black sand to its orginal color, they only sank into the black sand. They were flung back out, black as shadow, and connected with the bunny's paws. His golden arms began to darken, spreading throughout his body until he was covered in the black sand, from the tips of his ears to his furry feet. His eyes glowed with golden light and he turned on the girl, fangs flashing in his mouth, replacing his buckteeth.

I rushed forward, jumping toward the real girl as very real tears slipped down her cheeks as she slept. I heard her murmur, "Bunny?" as I pulled her off the bed and held her close to me. I tried to rock her, even though I hadn't handled a kid this little in forever, and really just ended up shaking her so much that she woke up.

She clutched my hood in her tiny fists, crying into my chest as I tried my best to soothe her. "Hey, it's okay, sweetie," I whispered, trying to rub her back without flattening her wings.

The sand around the room began to dissolve. The golden girl was swirled into a trendil of gold and shot through the window in the little girl's room. The ocean of black sand formed the figure of ...

"No," I whispered. "You've got to be kidding me."

The man I'd seen in my nightmare smirked down at me. "You've gotten desperate, Davis," He mused. "Comforting children ... How _pathetic._"

I placed a hand protectively on the girl's unruly hair. "Leave her out of this."

He laughed. It reminded me too much of Hysteria.

"Oh, Davis," He continued. "She's _already _a part of it."

He chuckled at the panicked expression on my face. "Oh, it's not _your _fault," He said, "It's the Guardian's fault."

"Guardians? I told you," I snarled, "I don't want anything to do with you or them."

"You'll change your mind," He began knowingly. "They _always_ do."

I glared at him, holding the girl protectively against me.

A sick smile twisted upon his face. "You know, the only reason she believes in you right now is because of _me_," He continued. "That's why you can hold her. She's feeling fear, so much glorious fear, that she can't _help _but believe in you."

He let that sink in and I felt my heart plop into my stomach. He was right.

She was scared, absoluetely terrified, and she probably thought I was someone else. Someone she actually knew. I was invisible, after all. No one could see me. No one wanted to.

"Davis," He said, "Just think it over."

"Oh, I've thought it over," I growled. A piece of hair tickled my chin and I glanced down. The little girl wrapped her tiny fist around my thumb and readjusted herself against me. I sighed, staring down at her.

I glanced back up, desperate, and watched his smile grow.

"What were you saying, Davis?" He asked, leaning forward, a hand pressed to his ear.

I was about to answer when the bedroom door swung open. A column of light splashed over Pitch, narrowly missing me and the little girl. Pitch winced, jumping into the shadows the second light blazed against his skin.

A little boy with brown hair and brown eyes aimed his flashlight in my direction and stared at me, or more so, at his sister who was sleeping against thin air, as he would see.

I laughed nervously and struggled to pry her arms from around my neck. She was still clutching my thumb.

"Jack?" The boy asked. "Is that you?"

I continued to struggle to pull her away. "Kid, I don't know who Jack is," I mumbled, the girls' arms tightening around my neck, choking me.

I envisioned her arms as a hangman's noose, tightening, squeezing, choking me...

The little boy jumped onto the bed. "Sophie! Sophie, let go of Jack! Sophie!"

"Who the heck is Jack?" I asked when the girl finally loosened her death hold.

The little boy stared at me with wide brown eyes. "Jack. That's your name."

"No. It's Davis," I deadpanned.

The little boy shook his head furiously. "_No. _It's Jack."

The window was thrown open and my head and the little boys' whipped toward it. The little girl, Sophie, continued to cling to me.

Frost painted across the windows as a boy with bright white hair sat, perched on a windowsill, a crooked staff clutched in his hand. His blue eyes narrowed at the sight of me and his blue hoodie strings fluttered in the wind. "No. _I'm_ Jack," He said, jabbing a pale thumb into his chest. He stepped into the room, bare feet padding against the wooden floor and stuck his staff out, aiming the crook at me. "And if I were you, _Davis, _I wouldn't make any sudden movements."

**Why do Jack and Davis look so alike hmm**

**Writing the bit about Sophie's dream was actually really sad, because I knew it was something Bunny would really do and that he would do anything to protect her. God, writing fanfiction sucks when you're a fangirl**

**Thank you to Jayann for reviewing (I'm glad you liked it) and thank you to Blackhole134 for following this story.**

**I rewatched the movie and forced my friends to watch it with me (wow you have friends youre so lucky) no, all half of them did was complain and the other half was screaming and crying with me**

**Yeah, so review, tell me what ya think and I should update in a few days woo so see ya then**


	5. Believers

It's not easy to _not_ make sudden movements when a little girl is choking you. Or when you realize that staff that the white-haired guy is aiming at your face is sparking puffs of cold air and ice shards. Or when the little brown haired, brown eyed kid is blinding you with a flashlight.

"Jamie," The Jack guy instructed, "Get over here."

I watched the little boy reluctantly look away from my face and walk around his little sister's bed to stand beside Jack.

"Now, let Sophie go," Jack growled.

"What do you think I've been trying to do?" I whispered harshly at him, as I struggled to unwrap her arms. The second I'd pried her arms apart, they refastened around my torso in a bone-crushing hug.

I sighed and began to try to coax her off of me. "Hey, um, Sophie, is it? Could you, I don't know, let go for a second? Please?"

She shook her unruly hair and buried it into my chest.

I groaned. I'd honestly never had this problem before. I sighed and lifted her chin with two of my fingers. Her giant green eyes stared up at me. "Are you scared?" I whispered.

She nodded, very fast, causing her yellow hair to whip forward. "Bunny..." She murmured.

I shook my head. "No, no, Bunny's okay. That was only a bad dream. Bunny's fine, but he'd be a lot happier if you weren't so scared anymore."

She stared at me and shook her head, slamming her face back into the cozy confines of my hoodie.

I sighed and glanced at her older brother. "Has she got a favourite story book?" I asked him and he nodded, walking over to a tiny white shelf full of books. He pulled a book off it and handed it to me.

"_The Sandman,_" I read aloud, raising my eyebrows. "Alright, fine, we'll go with it." I spoke a little louder, so that she could hear. "We're gonna read a story. You can let go, so I can put you under the covers."

She released me and bounced to her seat at the top of her bed. She stared at me expectantly and patted the spot beside her.

I sighed and took the seat beside her, pulling the covers up and over her small frame. "Ready?" I asked, and she nodded, staring at the cover of the book.

Even I had to admit, the coverart was insanely cool. The Sandman stood on a small ledge of sand, his short arms oustretched, his eyes closed and a pleasant smile spread over his face. Swirls of golden sand flew from his hands. The moon reflected off the ocean behind him, and an army of _seashells _stood at his command.

I turned the cover and was met by an expanse of sketches. There was a chart of how Sleepy Sands came to the side, there was a sketch of a mermaid atop a battle-seahorse. Below the mermaid, was a picture of Sandy, and below Sandy, there was a giant sea turtle, of which Sandy was riding.

Sophie, I realized, was truly impatient for me to read, as she turned the page before I could fully examine it. I gave a bit of a look, which caused her to pout and point at the words.

I relented and began to read it aloud: "'Of course, you know the Guardians of Childhood. You've known them since before you can remember, and you'll know them till your memories are like twilight.'"

It was funny; I hadn't remembered them at all.

I glanced at Jack and Jamie and saw that Jack had visibly relaxed, yet he was still on guard. I could tell by the way his fist tightened on his staff when he saw he glancing over at them. Jamie had walked over to look at the pictures and I turned the book in his direction, so he could see them better.

"'The very first guardian was the Man in the Moon, and it was he who found the others,'" I whispered, my eyebrows furrowing, but I continued to read on. "'The Man in the Moon watches over the children of Earth. Like a giant nightlight in the sky, he keeps nightmares away. But when the moon is less than full and bright, who will keep the children safe at night?'"

From the corner of my eye, I saw Jamie glance at Jack and smile slightly as Jack puffed his chest out.

I got three pages in before my voice faltered and I was staring at a version of the man from my nightmares, the man who had turned Sophie's sweet dream horrible. "'But in this Golden Age, there was one who could not abide anything good or kind or gentle: Pitch, the King of the Nightmares. He had sworn to destroy sweet dreams and shooting stars, and one by one he hunted them down. Sailing in his _Nightmare Galleon _with his Dream Pirates, he would harpoon the stars and drag them to their doom, hurling them into moons, planets, or even the endless darkness of a black hole.'"

Sophie's nails dug into my arm, and her brother grabbed her hand, glancing nervously at Jack, who had perked up at the mention of Pitch.

"'And so it was with Sanderson Mansnoozie and his star. They were near the shoulder of the constellation Orion when Pitch attacked. The Nightmare King lanced the star with his harpoons. For the first time, Sandy knew ... Sandy knew _fear_ ... and his fear only made Pitch stronger.'" The words rang in my ears like shattering glass._ 'For the first time, Sandy knew fear, and his fear only made Pitch stronger.'_

Seventeen pages later, long after Sophie had fallen asleep, I finished the story, staring at the last page. I continued: "'Now, most every night is filled with sweet dreams. It's rare for Dreamsand to miss its proper mark, but if it does, a nightmare might try to sneak their way into your dream.'"

My voice grew soft, a whisper. "'But, _you _knows it not real.'"

"'So, when you have a good night's sleep and a wonderful dream, you might thank your gentle friend, His Nocturnal Magnifience, Sanderson Mansnoozie, Sandman The First, Lord High Protector of Sleep and Dreams. A longish name to be sure. But worthy of a diligent dreamer who started his journey as just plain Sandy,'" I finished, glancing at Sophie, who was drooling on my hoodie sleeve. Jamie and Jack were both sharing glances and I watched golden sand begin to soar into her room, through the open window.

In the cloud of sand, the rabbit and the little girl reappeared, happy and golden again. I smiled up at them and watched the little girl fly and the rabbit hop after her.

A mound of golden sand was scuplted into the form of a boy, who stood up out of the gold dust pile. His flyaway hair caused me to feel my own, and I watched the boy begin to walk across the air. The strings of his hood bounced agianst his chest and the little girl began to fly toward him, but the bunny outstretched a furry forearm and shook his head. He was suddenly armed with two golden boomerangs. He let one fly and my golden form narrowly bent to the side. My form leapt into the air and _black sand _exploded from the golden palms.

"No," I whispered, turning to Sophie. "Sophie. Sophie, wake up!" I tried to shake her, but she stayed asleep.

Jamie and Jack stepped away from me as I glanced between Sophie and the golden battle.

I could hear a voice, then, the voice of Pitch, the voice I'd been hearing for days.

_You see, Davis, _His voice whispered, _Everytime you think there's good in you, any ounce of good, you'll know, deep down, that there isn't any. Everytime you think you can save someone, you can't, because you destroy them anyway._

I watched in shock as the black sand wrapped around the bunny, infecting him. The black sand trinkled closer to the golden girl.

"No, no, please," I whispered, glancing around the rest of the room. "Stop."

_I'm not doing anything, _Pitch said. _You're doing it all._

His laughter stabbed into my ears.

You're doing it all.

I thought for a second. If I was doing it... Couldn't I stop it?

I closed my eyes, gritting my teeth and thought furiously, _Stop. Stop it. She's a little girl. What the hell are you doing, Davis, to the only little girl who cared enough to see you?_

_She didn't care, _Pitch growled. _She was scared into believing in you._

_Think, Davis, think. If you don't want this to happen, then stop it._

_It won't work, you know, _Pitch's voice echoed in my mind. _You're acting foolish._

I remembered how heartbroken the girl had been after her dream, how concerned she was of that rabbit, how the rabbit tried his best to protect her and something ached in my heart.

Something ached in the heart that hadn't beat in three-thousand years.

Something pulsed.

Something ... became alive again.

I could hear Pitch shrieking in my mind, hurling insults but I ignored it, focusing on fending off the bad dreams that were plaguing her, as they had with me everytime I relented my resolve and fell asleep.

I reopened my eyes when I heard two collective gasps, one from Jamie and one from Jack. Moonlight flowed into the room and I watched the black sand crumble from the rabbit and little girl. It all rushed forward, like a giant serpent, and leapt forward, sinking two venomous fangs into the ankle of my own golden form. My form faltered, stumbled slightly. The serpent melted into shadow and two black pinpricks blossomed into dollops of splattered ink, flooding over my body, blanketing my form into shadow, except for the two golden eyes. My form gave a slight wave before vanishing completely, into thin air.

Sophie woke up screaming.

"Davey!" Her voice was shrill, beyond anything, and tears flooded from her eyes. "Davey!"

I flinched at the sound of Hysteria's nickname for me, but held her close, nonetheless. "Hey, it's alright," I whispered. "I'm right here, Soph." She clung to me tightly and her bedroom door was suddenly thrust open. My eyes widened and I lowered Sophie onto the bed, ruffled her hair and jumped into the shadow behind the opening door.

Jamie ducked behind the bed and Jack followed suit, even though Jamie's mother wouldn't have seen him anyway. The mother walked in, picking Sophie from the tangled bedsheets and began to soothe her.

I sighed in relief and watched as her mother picked Sophie off the bed and stood up with her, walking toward the door. "Jamie," She called softly to the room. "I know you're in here, too. She must've woken you up."

Jamie peeked his head up and smiled sheepishly. His mother held out a hand and Jamie, after seeing Jack's nod, ran off to grab the offer. The three of them left the room.

Jack stood up, staring at me. "Who _are _you?"

I stepped away from the shadows. "I could ask you the same thing."

"I'm Jack," Jack said, outstretching a pale hand after a moment's hesitation. "Jack Frost."

I stared at him, reaching out my own hand. We shook one another's. "Davis."

"No last name?" Jack asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I don't remember it," I shrugged.

Jack thought for a moment. "I could help you find it out."

I stared at him. "Wait ... what?"

"I was sent here because there was a disturbance with Sophie," Jack explained. "Then Jamie got involved. Jamie and Sophie ... In a way, they personally know me. Jamie believes in me. He was the only one. Sophie and Bunny... They have a special connection. He was freaked out when he felt Sophie get frightened. See, it's hard to explain, but we feel whenever our believers get scared or anything, so-"

"Whoa, whoa, wait. Believers?" I asked in amazement. "Kids ... Kids can see you? They _believe _in you?"

Jack nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"How ... How long have you been believed in?" I asked.

"Two years," Jack shrugged.

I wrung my hands together. "And ... They're not _scared _of you?"

Jack stared at me. "Why would they be scared of me?"

I shook my head. "No matter. But, they ... Don't hate you?"

Jack laughed. It was an airy, cool laugh unlike anything I'd hear before. Hysteria's laughter was always crazy, gasping breaths that turned bitter and cruel. But, Jack's laughter ... It was fun, carefree, breezy.

"No, they don't hate me," Jack said, the laughter still evident in his voice. "I mean, sure, when I keep winter going throughout April, they get a bit peeved but I'm only doing it to stay with them a while longer..."

A pained expression came over his face. "I'm always there for them, but with summer so close... It's much harder for me to be here. Burgess is cooler than most places, so I have no problem staying here with them, but when it gets hotter... The most I can do is appear in an air-conditioned place or just fly in on a cold front."

"You really care about them, don't you?" I asked, as Jack pulled up Sophie's covers and picked up her yellow blanket from the wooden floor. He stared at it, as it contained memories I couldn't see. He placed it on her pillow.

"Of course I do," Jack said. "They're why I'm here, really. They're why you're here, too, I think."

I raised an eyebrow, staring at him. "Me?"

"Yeah. I think you're supposed to help us," Jack continued, voicing his thoughts. "I think ... you're what we've been waiting for to help us stop Pitch, once and for all."

I stared at him. "Well..."

"That's it! You're the one Manny told us about!" Jack said, rushing toward me. I jumped back, my eyes wide, as Jack shook me by the shoulders. "You're the guy who looks like me! Everyone thought it was me, but no, it's you!"

I continued to stare. "Jack, I don't think so."

"What?" Jack asked, all enthusiasm dissappearing from his face. "Why?"

"I ... I can't do it," I said, shaking my head. "I've already had Pitch come ask me... He said you were the bad guys..."

Jack's face darkened. "You didn't believe what Pitch said, did you?"

"Well... He... He could see me," I muttered. "I know he's bad, but ... I was tempted. I mean, I've been invisible to everyone for as long as I can remember.. And, he has some good points..."

"No," Jack instructed. "You can't believe Pitch, Davis. I did once and I regret it everyday. Because of Pitch, no one can believe in you. He's scaring any potential believers off and he's making you second-guess yourself."

I stared at him. "Okay. When do we get started?"

Jack shrugged. "Now, I guess. Follow me." Jack stepped out of the room from the window and jumped down. I rushed forward and Jack floated a few inches in front of me.

"Can you fly?" Jack asked.

I shook my head. "I can travel using shadow, though."

Jack bit his lip. "No, that wouldn't work. Pitch is after you. You can be out here when it's light, right?"

I nodded, throwing my hood over my hair. I pulled my sleeves down over my hands and Jack held out his staff for me to grab hold of. "Now, just hold on tight," Jack advised. He smiled slyly. "We're gonna have some fun."

Jack grinned at me and I felt my stomach twist. What had I gotten myself into?

**Jack and Davis are awesome together, I seriously ship it so hard.**

**Thank you for the amazing reviews! I love you guys so much! I usually post at night, so I get reviews in the morning and it's awesome because they just completely make my day!**

**Special thanks to chibissima, HubridBunny and Rascal for reviewing (all three of you made my day) and also, thank you HubridBunny for following this story!**

**I was going to update later on, but I actually had my first dream in forever and then I wrote this, so thanks Sandy.**

**I don't own any of the characters beside Davis, Hysteria and Phobia. I don't own _The Sandman_, either, so just thank William Joyce for being a perfect human being and making the Guardians of Childhood series.**

**Yes, so I'll see you all the next time I update. -makes heart with hands-**


	6. Guardians

Let's just get this straight: I hate flying.

I've heard most people talk about wanting to fly-hell, I watched the Wright Brothers jump off a cliff in the metal contraption they'd labeled a plane-but plane flight and wind flight are two very different things.

I was clutching to Jack, my eyes screwed shut, and I was about two seconds from diagonosing myself with aerophobia.

"Okay, you're ... choking ... me," Jack gasped, but I refused to loosen my grip.

"I hate this so much," I mumbled into Jack's sweatshirt. "Why didn't I just shadow myself over to where we're going?" I peeked an eye open. "Oh, yeah. Where _are_ we headed, exactly?"

I squeezed my eyes shut again as Jack began to reply. His voice rumbled in his chest. "We're heading to a friend of mine. It's pretty cold there."

I sighed. "I've been cold forever. It doesn't bother me."

We were silent most of the ride, if you didn't count my nervous muttering and how I would hold him tighter everytime we were flown up by a rouge gust of wind. Jack stayed focused on keeping us on course, but I was busy blasting fireworks behind my eyelids and gritting my teeth.

The climate around us grew drastically colder and it only made me grip Jack's waist even tighter than I already was.

My feet grazed something fluffy and freezing. We stopped moving.

"You can let go now," Jack said.

I placed my feet squarely in the snow. Jack turned to watch me, his brow furrowed in concern. "Hey, Davis, are you okay?"

I shook my head, feeling an intense pain strike my stomach. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

It wasn't from the flight, either. I remembered this snow, this winter, but it was different. It was during the Civil War, blurring with all of the other devastating Decembers I'd witnessed in a span of four years.

Blood seeped into the snow. A thousand bodies scattered over the frozen water, the crimson ice crystals. The snow melted into their rough, cotton uniforms. Blood seeped from their arms, their legs, their heads, their hands, their feet, their faces. The only thing tallying as tall as the death toll was the fear radiating off of the last thousand and eighty soliders still alive.

Hysteria grinned beside me. He nudged me eagerly. "We're making history, Davey," He chuckled. "We're making history."

I stared uneasily at the red-splattered canvas before me. "This isn't a history I want to remember," I heard my voice say.

Hysteria shrugged, a crazy grin on his face, a dreamy look in his bronze eyes. "Suit yourself. This is the stuff generations will learn about," His voice turned into a laugh. "All because of a little _hysteria._"

Jack shook my shoulder and I was staring into his icy blue eyes. His dark eyebrows were knit in concern. "Are you okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

I was shaking. It took me a while to realize that.

Jack grabbed my forearm. "Let's get you inside."

I looked around for the first time and could barely see the top of a red roof.

"What is _that_?" I asked, awe-struck.

Jack smiled, tugging my sweatshirt. "You'll just have to get closer and see."

...

It was a workshop. A _magical _workshop.

For the first time ever, I had the actual feeling of a little kid flipping out in a candy store, because at that moment, I was that kid.

We walked through a set of double doors, opened by a set of furry yetis. I let out a gleeful noise at the sight of them, a grin slinking over my face.

Jack glanced over at me.

I caught sight of a hovering toy airplane. It soared through the air, until it was inches away, close enough to touch. A green army man was flying it, talking into a painted radio.

I quickly turned my head to see an orange jellyfish swim through the air, electricity crackling along its tentacles. It was joined by a pink and purple jellyfish, soaring above my head.

I heard a few yetis let out a whooping call as they slid down a firefigther pole a few flights until they had landed on our floor. One of them, a rust-streaked yeti with a red mustashe, grunted to me and pointed behind him to a set of heavy-duty doors.

Jack nudged me. "Go ahead."

I followed the rusted yeti through the doors, still trying to inspect every corner of the workshop. One yeti, painting war planes, suddenly spilled a load of black paint all over the camoflauge he'd been perfecting. He shreiked in frustration, but I rushed over, grabbing a bottle of white. I picked up his brush, dabbed it into the glob of black paint and squirted a huge dollup of white on his pallate.

I painted a white star in the middle of the plane and on the plane wings. I handed the yeti his paint bursh back, causing him to stare at me suspiously as I walked back over to Jack and the rusted yeti.

Jack raised his eyebrow at me and I shrugged, following the rusted yeti into the room.

I stopped dead in my tracks. "Holy crap."

Jack had to shove me forward to get me to move. I stumbled, tripping over myself and when I finally regained my balance, I had the attention of four very imposing figures.

I backed up nervously, glancing between them all.

"Hello, Davis," Santa practically shouted. "We're very happy to meet you!"

The sides of my lips lifted but fell just as fast.

"Oh, you're _so _cute!" The Tooth Fairy gushed, her wings barely visible as she rushed to my face. "You look exactly like Jack! Well, except the black hair and the gold eyes."

Her violet eyes inspected mine closely and I could pinpoint feathers all over her body. "Can I look at your teeth?" She asked, her eyes bright and eager.

"Um," I said, backing up a bit at her enthusiasm. "I, uh, sure."

She leapt forward, pulling my jaw apart to closely inspect my teeth.

"Wow!" She marveled, stabbing my gums with her fingernails. "Just ... wow!"

She stared at me, her violet eyes wide, and backed away. She giggled nervously. "Wow," She mumbled, scratching the back of her head and fluttering back beside Santa.

The Sandman off of the story bounced over, his golden face full of smiles and crinkled eyes. Golden images popped over his head. There was a book, a little girl with unruly hair, a bunny, a headshot that looked suspiously like Pitch, a boy with shaggy hair and then a golden eye. He smiled, giving me a double thumbs-up.

I returned the thumbs-up sheepishly and caught sight of gigantic blue-grey feet. My eyes traveled up the body of the freakishly tall rabbit. He was watching me closely with narrowed grass-green eyes. His pink nose twitched slightly and his expression was unreadable.

Santa took a step forward, his boot squeaking against the floor. "Davis!" He cried in his thick Russian accent. "Welcome to workshop, my boy!"

I smiled slightly. "Thanks."

He came forward, draping a thickset arm over my shoulder. "I do hope you like the toys," He mumbled. "The only boy we have is Jack and he freezes half of it."

Jack scoffed beside me and I let out a laugh. A real laugh.

Santa spoke a bit louder, puncturing my eardrums. "So, Davis, you must like to know why you're here."

Everyone was staring at me now.

I nodded. "Yeah, that'd be nice."

"Well," He began slowly. "Manny can explain."

I raised an eyebrow at him and North released me from his grasp and I felt the floor begin to slide out from underneath me.

I glanced down, spotting a fancy _G _crest engraved in dark wood. I hopped to the side, watching as the wood continued to split until it dissappeared completely. I stared down a deep cavern of darkness when shadow began to swirl up out of it.

A cloud of inky darkness flooded from the pit, soaring over me like a tsunami wave. Fear suddenly overwelmed me the second it came crashing down. I threw my arms over my head, fear choking me as darkness enveloped me.

It was gone as soon as it came. I stood, my arms still held over my head, my breathing ragged and gaspy. I could feel the start of a panic attack. Tightness exploded in my chest, my breath grew short quickly and all I could see was darkness and more and more of it.

I slowly reopened my eyes, the tightness dissapating. I gulped a sharp intake of breath and gaped at the shadow before me.

It was myself. That much was certain.

My skin was a layer of grey shadow, contrasting drastically with my spiky black hair. My eyebrows were arched in a sort of mocking way and a slight smirk was on my face. My arms were crossed over my black hoodie and my jeans were bunched around my shoes in puddles. The only light thing about me-the only color-were my eyes, which glowed with golden sand.

I let out a long-held breath.

Then, I noticed something. My clothes ... they were moving.

I placed a finger against the left string of my hood. An image popped into the air above my head. I glanced up, seeing my sullen face among a jeering crowd of onlookers as a body swung from a gallows. Hysteria was laughing besides me, clapping his hands and shouting, "You useless old hag! You deserve what you've got!" I looked about to tell him off, but then he turned to me, his bronze eyes flashing in glee. "Don't you agree, Davey?"

I pulled my hand from the string, moving on to a loose stitch near the hoodie pocket. Another image popped up above me. A mountain of bodies was burning high in the air. I could hear Phobia's words, "Ashes, ashes. We all fall down, eh?" Hysteria's laughter rang out like gunshots, "Yeah, except for the part where we _don't._"

I withdrew and placed a palm to my right sleeve, rubbing it with my fingers. It didn't feel like cloth; it felt like coolness, in a solid, washing over my hand like cold water from a facet. A new memory exploded above me.

I sat on a bed, my arms clutching my knees close to my chest. Hysteria and Phobia sat beside me on the bed, looking tired and weary. Phobia wrapped an arm around me after a few seconds.

"It's gonna be okay," Phobia whispered. "We're gonna be okay."

Hysteria stood up aburtly. "Lies," He snarled.

"Please," Phobia pleaded. "Sit back down."

"You act like everything's okay," Hysteria shouted, "but it's not!" He lashed out, punching the wall. "Nothing's okay! We're going to _die _just sitting here!"

"Knock it off," Phobia snapped.

"Don't you understand?" Hysteria shrieked. "We're going to die here! We're gonna die and it's _all _his fault!" Hysteria pointed angirly at me. "Yes, _your _fault, Davey."

I remained silent and Phobia suddenly left my side, anger rippling across his face. "I swear to God, if you don't shut up-"

"What?" Hysteria yelled. "You'll do _what_?"

Phobia snapped his fingers and a silver ball of light ignited in his palm. I scooted farther away, closer to the wall. Hysteria held out a ball of bronze light. They both ran forward, throwing the balls of light.

Agony exploded against my skull as the lights clashed. I screamed in hysteric pain, holding my head. I fell from the bed, clutching my head still, crying against the ground.

Hysteria and Phobia were suddenly by my side, trying to comfort me, to find out what was wrong. I could feel their hands-their clawed, cold shadowy hands running over my body, through my hair-and it only made things worse.

I backed away from the two of them, swatting their hands away each time they tried to touch me. Pain still stabbed through my skull and the spinning room didn't help matters. Any light was depleted and all I could see were the two figures of my brothers as they melted into the darkness, into these creatures, these _monsters_, with purple fangs and curled talons and liquid metal eyes.

I stumbled backward, my hand leaving the sleeve. I cowered suddenly, realizing that they were the main reason for my string of panic attacks.

I could feel another one bubbling up. I clutched my chest with my stiff hands, my breathing going ragged and gaspy.

Moonlight flooded in through a skylight, far above where I was standing. The light swirled through the room, much like the Sandman's Dreamsand. The moonlight materalized into a light saber-which I would've thought clever, had I not been choking on a huge bite of fear. The moonlight saber slashed through the shadow of myself, which must've ticked it off, because it grew five times in size, purple fangs and all, with liquid gold eyes and a haunting shriek before it shot out of the room, through the skylight.

The moonlight flooded my senses, bathing myself in soft light. There was a voice, a soft comforting voice, one I hadn't heard before.

"Hello, Davis," The voice began. "My sincerest apologies about that. I cannot control Shades as well as The Nightmare King can."

"Shades?" I asked aloud, my eyebrows furrowing.

"Yes. The Nightmare King's warriors. He's got millions of them that wreck havoc on the world," The voice explained, patient as a father to a rather dim child. "You've only met your brothers as Shades, when they're in their truest form of destruction. You've never been a Shade, as far as I can tell."

"I've never been one?" I asked slowly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bunnymund swirl the 'crazy' sign near his left rabbit ear.

"No. You've never wanted to harm anyone," He continued. "Not intentionally, anyway."

I asked a silent question in my head: who the hell was this guy?

"Oh, blasted! I forgot again, didn't I? I always forget introductions," He apologized sheepishly. "I'm MiM, but most Guardians call me Manny."

"Guardians?" I asked, turning my head to stare at the five big titles. I shot Jack an accusing look and he just shrugged, a nervous look on his face.

"Yes, Guardians," Santa spoke out. "We protect the children of Earth from Pitch."

"The Nightmare King?" I asked, glancing at the five of them. "Whoa, wait. How am _I _supposed to help any of you? Fear isn't something meant for children."

"But, you're a kid," Jack said, watching me closely. "And you've seen it all."

I looked between the five of them. "Yeah, I've seen it all. I've watched these people do idiotic things for three thousand years. I've watched them murder one another. Do you think this is some bedtime story for little kids before bed? Some Grimms fairytale?"

They didn't say anything, just shuffled their feet under my gaze.

"I can't help you," I said, my voice trembling and echoing against the workshop room. "I ruin everything I touch. Anything or anyone that tries to help me, they...," My voice faltered and I stared at the _G _crest that had rematerialized beneath my feet. "I can't help kids. Not unless they feel fear like I do," I looked up and shook my head, "And, if they feel my sort of fear, they'll need more help than just me."

"Fear is natural, Davis," The Tooth Fairy chimed in. "It's in everybody. You just have to see past it. You have to see the hope in the fear."

"What if there is no hope?" I asked, my voice breaking. "What if there is no light in the darkness?"

The Sandman took a step forward defiantly, and it was so sudden, that we all stared at him in shock. He walked forward and tugged at my pants, looking beyond annoyed. I glanced down and raised my eyebrows.

The Sandman snapped his fingers and a cloud of golden sand erupted above his head. The unruly-haired girl with butterfly wings soared alongside a tall rabbit, who was hopping to keep up with her. The same shadowy boy rose from the golden cloud. The little girl flew to him and one of her butterfly wings brushed his shoulder. The shadows began to unravel like rope and golden sand shone beneath. After a while, he was a completely golden boy, not a trace of darkness on his skin.

I stared at it, not comprehending it.

Hysteric laughter broke through my shock.

"Aw, Davey! You've made friends!" Hysteria's voice stabbed into my skull, much like the memory had. "Too bad we'll have to kill them."

My shoulders slumped as Phobia's voice sounded beside me. "Sorry I have to do this, Davis," He said and silver light exploded in trendils of light beside me.

I turned at the right moment, golden light slashing through the silver. "_No,_" I snarled.

Hysteria laughed, holding out his hands in mock surrender. "Oh, God, I'm _so _scared! Don't mess with this badass here!"

"No," Santa took a step forward, his thick accent causing Hysteria's smile to fade. "_I_ am badass. The rest are ... extra." He gave a shrug, pulling his swords from the sheaths behind his back.

"_Extra_?" The Easter Bunny shouted, suddenly armed with a couple egg bombs and boomerangs. He pointed one of the boomerangs in Santa's direction as he said, "You'll pay for that one later, mate, but right now I've got to regain my title."

The Tooth Fairy glared holes through Hysteria's head. "I swear, if you even _bump _one of his incisors," She snapped, letting the threat hang in the air.

Jack aimed his staff at my brothers, who stood at either side of me. His eyebrows were furrowed in anger and he seemed livid. Sandy held a golden whip in each hand and slashed them against the ground so that they ignited golden sparks.

Hysteria cracked his knuckles then cracked his neck from side to side. He shot Phobia a look. "Keep the kid occupied," He said. "I've got the rest of them."

Hysteria gave a shrieking call and ran at the Guardians. They all ran at him, full force and beyond angry.

I felt my breathing go ragged and looked around. The walls were closing in. Shadows were flooding in from the corners of the room. I felt something squeeze at my heart, causing an even worse panic attack than usual. I held my arms out, maybe for leverage, even though my grasping fingers couldn't grab anything except air.

"Sorry, Davis," Phobia whispered.

I screwed up my expression as he tried to place his hand on my shoulder. I swung angirly at him, hitting him in the chest. He sighed, allowing me to punch him again.

He hit me back once I'd gotten too close to his face. His fist connected with my cheek. It wouldn't have done much damage, had his skin been smooth.

But, it wasn't.

Blood flowed down my cheekbone. The rest of it was splattered over his knuckles. The fighting between the Guardians and Hysteria stopped aburtly. Hysteria and Phobia both shared a look of the upmost shock. The Guardians seemed shocked, but not as much.

My fingers brushed the hot liquid spilling down my face. I stared at the red on my fingertips as if it were rusty poison. "Oh my god," I breathed out, placing a hand against my chest.

I felt it. It was dull and soft, but it was there. A beat.

_I had a heartbeat._

**This was a **_**very **_**long chapter. I hope you all like it!**

**I know, whoa, Davis is alive again! -happy dance-**

**I'm actually so happy for him, you don't understand, I'm getting feels for my own OC**

_**and they're so bad.**_

**I've also been drawing a lot of angsy stuff that I might post on a DA account if I do ever force myself to make one and figure out how to scan pictures and stuff. So, yeah. That will be here in the very late future because I put the pro in procrastinate.**

**I was planning on rewatching rotg today but of course, my dad had to clean the carpets so I couldn't watch it in any of the rooms because I have no clue how to work the TV's, so I just drew a lot of stuff and posted this yay**

**I saw Iron Man 3 yesterday guys and I loved it. If you haven't seen it yet, do so and **

_**Happy had a mullet in 1999**_

**You're welcome for that.**

**I'm actually going to be answering reviews from now on (until I get tired of it or forget because there are a few guests I'd like to talk to)**

**Rascal: You don't even understand how much I was freaking out when you reviewed that ugh I love you okay and if it's okay, I might give each other those nicknames later on in the story -starts squealing-**

**chibissima: Everybody loves action -nudges- Heh heh heh get it 'cause i switched sleigh with action, you know what, never mind. Here's some more!**

**HubridBunny: I know, Davis is pretty depressing to write about, let alone read about. It does help to get these feelings out, though, and tell his story. I'm glad you're curious! Curiousity is amazing (unless you're a cat, but you're a bunny, so you should be alright)!**

**Thank you to bokpricken for following and Ms. Oblivion, chibissima, and Xylaphne for favouriting! I love you guys so much!**

**Okay, see you all later and tell me what you think!**

**I almost forgot to tell you guys. It's May 4th and three days ago it snowed (only a little) but it still snowed. I told all of my friends it was because Jack was there to see me and yadda yadda. The third day there was only frost and I woke up thriteen minutes before my alarm went off and was like "hell yeah i can still sleep" so i closed my eyes and RIGHT ON THE DOT OF 6 O'CLOCK, SOMETHING THAT SOUNDED SUSPIOUSISLY LIKE A SNOWBALL S-N-O-W-B-A-L-L HIT MY WINDOW.**

**I'M STILL FREAKING OUT**


	7. Old Friends

A smile slid up my face as I gripped my chest in shock and ran my hands over my bloodied face and let out an excited squeal when blood glistened over my fingertips.

The Tooth Fairy reacted first. She soared over and gave Hysteria a swift uppercut under his jaw and hit him with an even harder punch against his cheekbone. No blood oozed out of the split skin on Hysteria's cheek, but what did was worse than blood.

Hysteria wasn't alive. He'd been killed by a group of drunk women, known as the Maenad, whom had been the Greek wine god's followers. The ironic thing was that Hysteria had actually been one of Dionysus's sons, since he'd had loads of drunken affairs, and Hysteria would have been the one son the insanity god would've most likely given a throne.

Shadow flowed down his cheekbone and his bronze eyes flashed dangerously. "I wouldn't have done that if I were you. Do you know what I do to pesky hummingbirds?" He growled.

My eyes widened and I threw myself in front of her, just as Hysteria's bronze light formed a _thyrsus_, the main symbol of the wine god. It was an ivy-covered branch, which orginally would've been topped with a pinecone. Instead of the topper, there was a long pointed end, sharpened like a spear.

I conjured a golden shield at the last minute, sending bronze and golden sparks everywhere. Hysteria gritted his teeth into a cruel smile. "Hero doesn't suit you, Davey. It never has."

I shrugged, smiling for once. "I don't know. I think I can work it pretty well," I replied cheekily.

Hysteria laughed out loud. "That's hilarious, Davey, but we all know, once those attacks start up ... You won't even be able to protect yourself."

His words rang through my ears and all I could remember was the silver and bronze light clashing. The reason for the attacks wasn't _me._

It was _them._

My sheild morphed into a double-edged sword and I swung for his neck.

He was taken by surprise and threw his bronze _thyrsus_ up to protect himself. I snapped it in half with one swift cut. Hysteria stared at the two wooden shafts in his hands in bewilderment and looked up, suddenly frightened.

"You wouldn't kill your own brother, would you, Davey?" He asked.

I narrowed my eyes coldly, but felt a twinge of guilt lapping against my heart. I bit my cheek and cut through it and mulled the blood over my tongue.

That was the taste of being alive. The pain of it, the rust, the hurt.

Shouts pummeled my ears as I was tackled to the ground. Hysteria grinned down at me. "You were always so easy to fool," He laughed, running a finger over the cut on my cheek, watching me wince. I could hear the Guardians trying to rush forward to help, but I could see silver light swirling around the room.

They wouldn't stand a chance against Phobia.

I struggled to move underneath Hysteria's weight, but his muscular arm pushed my chest down. "I don't know how you're suddenly alive," He growled. "But, I'll gladly kill you off. I'd like to kill your friends first. Just like way back when... Remember that, Davey?"

I struggled harder, finding renowned strength in the anger and guilt that was now overwelming my thoughts. I twisted Hysteria's wrist back and listened to it give a sick crack as the bone split. I watched a grey bone jut out of his wrist as shadow flowed out of the opening.

Hysteria screamed in pain, staring at his broken wrist. "You... I... YOU BROKE MY WRIST!"

"Yeah, and you killed my friends!" I shouted at him, jumping up and grabbing his broken staff. I rushed Phobia, who was currently too concentrated on making the Guardians run around in circles, with their arms over their heads to care much about me or Hysteria.

I hit Phobia upside the head with the blunt end of the stick.

The Guardians stopped screaming and hit the ground, holding their heads. Bunny retched into Santa's magical bag. Jack was breathing heavy, his head in between his knees. Tooth's wings twitched. Sandy passed out on the floor in exhaustion. Santa joined Bunny in puking in the sack.

Phobia turned to me. He glanced at Hysteria. "Broke his wrist, I see?"

I nodded and darted forward, hitting him in the chest with the broken shaft. Phobia backed up, throwing an arm out to meet my blow. Silver light pulsed from his hands and the shaft grew into a long brown-spotted python.

The python startled me, but I tossed it to the side before it could sink its bared fangs into my hand. I slapped Phobia's forearm with the pointed end of the last shaft, cutting apart his leather jacket.

He held a hand out. "Seriously?" He frowned at the clean-cut through the leather.

I shrugged. "Yeah, seriously. What are you even doing here? Don't you have crowds to terrorize?"

He sighed, staring sadly at his jacket. He began to pull it off. "I wish. No, we're working. Over-time."

I stared at him, my eyebrows furrowing. "Working?"

He laughed. "You're gone one day and you already forget about that job oppritunity we accepted?"

"Well," I said as he threw his jacket to the ground, pulling out a silver sword from the sleeve, "You never really went into detail on it."

A golden knife appeared in my hand and I dropped the shaft, slamming the knife against Phobia's sword, wincing at the noise of the two weapons clashing.

He pushed his weight against the sword, causing me to slip backward. "I didn't, did I? Well, we got a new job, that much you know. We basically spread havoc, destruction, that sort of thing."

I kicked swiftly at Phobia's shins, causing him to stumble. I sliced with my knife, cutting through his jeans. Shadow bled through the dark fabric and he retaliated, slamming the sword's edge into the muscle near the top of my shoulder.

I gasped in pain as Phobia slid the sword from my arm and slashed it across my lower abdomen. "We're working for the big guns," He said. "You know, Pitch. He's got quite an interest in you. I'm pretty curious about why your blood's red again." He ran his tongue over the sword blade, causing a red stripe to flash on his tongue. He smiled. "I bet we're all wondering why you're alive again."

I glared at him, pain flaring in my shoulder and abdomen. I bit back a cry of pain and thrust the knife out, until it lengthened into a double-edged sword. I slashed it as hard as I could, but Phobia took a step back. The blade tip nicked his nose and shadow bled from the tiny cut.

Phobia sighed. "I'm tired of this." He slammed the sword butt into the floor and knocked me off my feet. My head hit the floor hard and I winced in agony.

I heard Jack let out a cry of anguish and opened my eyes. Hysteria stood over him, grinning maniacly, pressing the tip of his sharp shaft into Jack's chest. Bronze light flared off the tip and Jack screamed.

"NO!" I cried, leaping from the floor and running in their direction. I tackled Hysteria to the floor, summoning my golden sword once again. Hysteria threw his broken wrist out to block me, but I wasn't thinking.

The sword slid through his broken wrist, slicing through skin and bone and shadow.

Hysteria screamed in pain, anger and shock. I watched as his body melted into shadow, bronze eyes glowing. Hysteria's voice morphed into that of a wild beast, beyond reason, and attacked me, hurling me to the floor and began to claw into me with purple talons and blood-red canines.

A silver-eyed shadow grabbed Hysteria's Shade from behind. They began to bite, claw and slaughter one another.

I felt the Jack begin to drag me away as the Guardians watched the two Shades in shock.

Hysteria's stump of a wrist wasn't reforming like it should have. The weapons we always used never allowed you to reform.

I stared at the stump and felt tears prick at my eyes. I'd done that to him. He was my brother.

Pitch's voice invaded my mind. _Never seen two Shades clash, eh?_

I felt Jack tense as he pulled me farther away. I glanced at the other Guardians. Bunny wiped his mouth on his furry arm, anger blazing in his eyes like fire. Tooth looked beyond pissed. Sandy, who had recovered from his passing out, punched his fist into his palm.

I whimpered in pain, seeing the trail of blood on the floor where I'd been dragged.

_"I said, have you _ever _seen two Shades clash, Davis?"_

The voice wasn't just in my head... It was echoing across the workshop.

A shadowy figure of Pitch glided into the room. The shadows melted off his body and he stood, with perfect posture and a smirk on his face. He glanced at my brothers' Shades and glared in their direction. He made a loud noise in his throat, as if to clear it.

They continued fighting.

Pitch rolled his eyes, unfolding his hands from behind his back in irritation. "You've got to be _kidding _me," He snarled. He morphed into shadow and was suddenly in the fight, pulling the Shades' jaws from one another's bodies. He threw them to opposite sides of the workshop and allowed the shadows to melt away.

Hysteria and Phobia were back in their normal states, except they were covered in shadowy wounds and Hysteria was still missing a hand from the wrist up.

"I swear, you two are worse than _children,_" Pitch grumbled.

Jack had somehow gotten me to my feet, although I was in immense pain trying to stay standing.

Pitch stared at me, a grin slinking onto his face. "It's a pleasure to finally _formally _meet you, Davis."

I stared at him, repulsion evident on my face.

His eyes glanced over the other Guardians. "I see you've all been aquainted."

The Guardians glared steadily at him.

Pitch ignored them and turned his gaze back to me. His eyebrows furrowed. "Red blood?" He asked.

My cuts gave a sting. The sting grew into a slight ache, which grew into blinding pain.

I groaned, doubling over, one hand pressed to the cut on my abdomen and my other hand clutching my shoulder. I swore under my breath and Jack rushed forward to try and stop me from colliding with the floor.

Pitch gave a laugh, which Hysteria followed with his maniac laughter.

I pulled my hand away from my shoulder and glanced at the blood smothering my hand. It was glistening in red, but when I'd turn my hand in the light, black reflected back.

I stared at it and suddenly pushed Jack away.

"What are you-" He tried to ask.

I stared at the blood on my hands. "What is this?" I asked incrediously, shoving them toward Pitch.

He shrugged. "It's your blood."

"Why is it turning black again?" I shouted at him.

He smiled. "Oh, that. I just disposed of the child who believed in you."

I froze. "What?"

He nodded. "You heard me."

"You didn't," I accused, fear pressing against my skull.

He smiled. "No, I'm pretty sure I did."

There was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, whisked away a second later. He smiled down at me. I smiled back. His smile faltered.

I laughed then. A hysterical laugh, that surprised my brothers.

"You didn't do anything to her," I said, confidence budding in my voice. "You didn't do anything because she reminds you of your own daughter."

Pitch's eyes widened. He stared at me, his jaw clenching. "How do you know about that?" He asked, quietly.

"I know a lot," I said, looking around the room, at all the faces. "I know that you have a group of other Shades surrounding the workshop, waiting for the signal. I also know that although you've told me you disposed of Sophie's belief in me, she's perfectly fine. Her mother's driving her and her brother to school. Another thing," I said, raising a bloodied finger to keep anyone from interrupting. "You didn't come here to kill me?"

He shook his head. "No, I actually came to talk to you in a civilized manner. I would've, had Frost here not taken you to this wretched workshop. I'd still like to talk to you, but that can wait." He seemed to notice Hysteria's missing hand. He rolled his eyes and stared at me. "Seriously? You chopped his hand off?"

I shrugged. "Maybe if they hadn't attacked, I wouldn't of had to do that."

He nodded, turning his blazing gaze to my brothers. "_Exactly._"

North took a step forward, holding his sword out in front of me. "What do you want, Pitch?" He growled.

I realized the Guardians had weapons out now, all in a fighting stance. I stood lamely to the side with a frightening Russian man protecting me. I sighed, unpleased by this, but didn't object, considering how bloody I was and how the pain was finally spreading through my body via living impulse.

Pitch shrugged. "Oh, North, you know I want. The upperhand. A new Shade to add to my collection," His eyes darted hungrily up my body but flew away just as quick. "But, you also know that I need help. And, who better to help me than old friends?"

**I decided to cut some of this chapter to add to the next, because this was dragging on. I also needed to add in Greek Mythology. If the Guardians are real, why can't Greek Gods be real, too? They just were never meant to mix, like Hysteria did.**

**I have a speech next week and I'm getting anxiety and headaches because I'm all panicy over it, but I made up a spin-off of The Boy Who Cried Wolf to use as an introduction. I'm not going to mention the fact that Barker Howler (Yes, I gave The Big Bad Wolf a name!) murders Peter or that his pack was ruthlessly slaughtered by The Two-Leggeds (hunters) just yet to my teachers, because I don't want them to tell me no because I'm finally confident and that doesn't happen a lot.**

**They're also limiting me to three-five minutes and I'll probably stutter and nervously laugh for about half of it. Yay. -thumbs up-**

**I started **_**Peter And The Starcatchers**_**! I'm about ten chapters from finishing it, too!**

**Batgirl13: I love him, too, why can't Davis be my boyfriend, why**

**Blackhole134: Yes, plot twists are awesome!**

**Xylaphe: Lunar, eh? It's got a nice ring to it! "Hey, kid, your shoes are lunar!" "Hey, Jack, your hair's lunar!" "Hey, Manny, your head's lunar, because, you know, you're the man in the moon and- you know what, I'm gonna stop talking now." But, still, I love it! Keep using it! I'm so happy you're making words up just for ... _me._ -virtual bone-crushing hug-**

**I'll see you all in the next chapter! **


	8. Shades

Old friends._ Old friends._

Pitch launched into an explanation as Bunny opened his mouth to argue.

"We _were _old friends, me and Tsar Lunar," Pitch began. "Tsar Lunar_ The First_, to be more precise, not the Manny you all know now. Tsar ... He appointed me General of The Golden Armies. At my request, I became the watchkeeper of the Shadow Prisons. Well, we all know how well that went," Pitch let out a bitter laugh. "I became _this._"

Pitch's entire body was engulfed in living shadow. He towered over even the Yetis, who cowered at the sight of Pitch's Shade. Shadow curled off of his body in wispy trendils. His thin fingers clicked with purple claws. Jagged shadowy canines snapped. His golden eyes glowed against the shadow skull.

He flicked his wrist and the shadows snapped away, draining into a golden heart locket clenched in his fist. As the shadows spiraled away, he snapped it closed and it melted into his skin, gold transfusing with the paleness of his palm.

Pitch shrugged, looking around the room, to each face. "I've known all of you. We've had our ... selective differences but hasn't everyone?"

Sandy nodded. It seemed to shock everyone; even Pitch seemed mildly surprised.

"Sandy ... Are you sure?" Tooth asked, uncertainty evident in her voice. He nodded firmly in reply.

North rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I don't know. Pitch is ... unpredictable. Bit like snowstorm."

Jack wrinkled his nose. "Excuse me?"

Pitch sighed, leaning against a workbench. "Tell me when you all come to a decision, eh?"

I looked between all the faces, either nodding or scrunching their facial expressions up. Pitch followed my gaze and nodded. "They always act like this around me," His voice whispered in my mind.

I looked between them all as Bunny began to inject his opinion into the conversation. "I believe you," I thought quickly and Pitch smiled slightly, watching the scene with amusment.

Phobia was suddenly beside me, a hand on my shoulder. "So, what do you think?" He asked silently. I could hear a hint of eagerness in his voice. "Will you help us?"

I stared at him, looking his face over. He seemed different. His raven hair glinted purple in the lights of North's workshop. His silver eyes anxiously watched me. I realized he was sweating, his breathing slightly heavy.

How can you breathe if you're-

"Will you?" He interrupted, as if he'd known what I was thinking. His hand tightened on my shoulder and I could see the bones clench in his hand. Phobia's eyebrows shot up, all friendliness gone from his face.

I stared at him. "I don't know. I find out I'm alive again and now this.."

Phobia rolled his eyes and that's when I noticed the difference. There was dark purple rimming the silver, growing red along the iris. "You never were offically dead, Davis. No one can just kill fear for the hell of it. Fear doesn't die because it was never born."

I raised an eyebrow. "I was never born?"

Phobia shook his head. "No, you were born, just as a different person. Before you were Fear, you were somebody else. You died as that person and were rebirthed as the next, at the same age, transfixed in time as someone new."

I scrunched up my nose. "Transfixed in time? How?"

"Not 'how,'" Phobia grumbled, throwing an arm over my shoulder. "_Who_. That who is Tsar Lunar. He kept you from dying off completely. He made you someone new. You would've been better off dead, though, from what I suspect."

"Why?" I asked.

Phobia gave me a sidelong glance. "There's been a rumor circling around about a _very _powerful, _very _violent new entity. And, they want _your _place." Phobia poked me in the chest.

"They can take it," I told him. "I don't want to be Fear. I want to be something _good._"

Phobia sighed. "You are good, buddy. You'll see sooner or later."

Phobia vaporized back to his spot beside Hysteria, who was still cradling his stump of an arm and shooting me sour looks. The Guardians had seemed to come to a conclusion.

"Pitch," North began, "We agree."

"We're not happy about it," Bunny rushed hurriedly.

"_But,_ we will help," North continued.

"On one condition," Tooth interjected.

"You don't harm us or any children," Jack said, leaning against his staff.

Pitch smiled. "I wouldn't dream of it." His eyes flicked to me. "Davis. Anymore to add?"

"Well," I began, "if you came here for help, why would you need an army of Shades?"

Pitch's gaze stayed steady. "In case things grew difficult."

"Oh. And the Nightmare Men? The Dream Pirates? What were they for? Decoration?" I shurgged, turning in a circle. "That's a lot of fear in one place, don't you think?"

Pitch laughed. "You'd know all about fear, wouldn't you?"

"Being alone for three thousand years does that to a person," I said, staring at him. "Let me see..."

I took a step forward and placed my hand on Pitch's shoulder. My fingers began to glow against his pale shoulder. Pitch jerked away and I could hear the Shades shrieking in my mind before they clamped their icy claws into my skin.

_I wouldn't do that again if I were you_, that familar voice whispered in my mind.

I blacked out trying to place the voice. It was familar ... and it wasn't Pitch's like I'd suspected.

**Who's the voice? MUAHAHAHAHA**

**I'm sorry about my lack of updating but I'm offically off of school woooOOOooo**

**Reviews:**

**Rascal: Thank you so much! Yes, I'm trying to think of pairings that everybody would be okay with. I really like Jack and Davis together and would like to see them more romantically inclined. Maybe even some Davis/Villian, which of course, you all don't know who the villian is yet. (-evil laughter-) But, yes, I adore Jack and Davis, so most likely them. If you'd like more pairings, I can add them in, too.**

**HubridBunny: Yeah, most dark writing is the best! Plot twists make the world go 'round!**

**Thanks to I Am Blind Justice for favouriting and tomboy499 for following!**

**Tell me what you all thought of the chapter and I got a DeviantArt account so I'll give you guys my penname once I figure out how to post things!**

**Have a fantastic day!**


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